


A Lost Paladin

by keithology



Category: Voltron - Fandom
Genre: AU, Action/Adventure, Adventure & Romance, Alternate Universe, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Gay Keith (Voltron), Keith/Lance (Voltron) Angst, M/M, Minor — Nymallura, Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-18
Updated: 2018-05-26
Packaged: 2018-11-30 13:00:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11464125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keithology/pseuds/keithology
Summary: (Is this thing on? Just start speaking?)Okay, listen, I didn’t mean to get myself into this situation — honest.There’s a time and place for everything, and, well, I happened to pick the wrong time to do one, small thing: stealing.Now, wait a minute. Don’t go telling all of your friends, and everyone you know, that I’m some hoodlum, or that I’m a thief.Lance McClain is NOT a thief. You know, I HAVE to steal — for survival purposes.Besides, I found the one person I didn’t know I needed because of it.And I wasn’t going to lose him again.





	1. Lance

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters.
> 
> Story note: there is a ‘video diary’ thing that sort of happens in this story — like in the Kane Chronicles by Rick Riordan. If you ever see “()” with italicized text inside, they’re talking to other people outside of the ‘video diary’.
> 
> This is my first ever story on here! I absolutely love Voltron and I love this ship so much, I just had to write something for them. Just a heads up, I do post stuff on ff.net sometimes, too, so this may eventually pop up on there as well along with other stories in the future!
> 
> Hope you enjoy!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Just a little note: if you started reading this beforehand, I have edited the chapter just a little bit. Still the same story, just changed around the layout a bit! Now there’s sort of a ‘video diary’ thing going on!
> 
> Anyway, enjoy! (:

( _Is this thing on? Just start speaking?_ )

Okay, listen, I didn’t _mean_ to get myself into this situation — honest.

There’s a time and place for everything, and, well, I happened to pick the wrong time to do one, small thing: stealing.

Now, _wait a minute_. Don’t go telling all of your friends, and everyone you know, that I’m some hoodlum, or that I’m a thief.

Lance McClain is _NOT_ a thief. You know, I _HAVE_ to steal — for survival purposes. Oh are you familiar with that? Yeah? Exactly.

Ever since about five years ago, the Galra Empire has been in control over the world — or rather, the whole universe. You heard me correctly; _humans aren’t in control_.

The Galra Empire is cruel, and believes if you aren’t one of them, you aren’t worthy of anything. And in case you were curious, that includes the ‘bare necessities of life’. No food, no water, no shelter, no nothing. I think little orphan Annie said it best when she sang about the hard-knock life; that’s _exactly_ what it’s like to be non-Galra.

Everyone is treated like literal garbage. My eyes have seen children getting murdered. _Children_. Families have been executed for stealing what they couldn’t afford; women and men alike are killed for trying to live. Yes, little orphan Annie, it is a hard-knock life for us. But we’re trying to salvage our world and restore it to its original state.

Oh, sorry, I should probably explain who ‘ _we_ ’ are. The citizens call us the ‘paladins’ — me, Pidge, Hunk, Shiro, and Allura and Coran. We try to make our rounds, but we mostly stick to one area. We help in any way that we can, in whatever way we can. Allura and Coran are the ones who gather the information for us — they tell us what is happening all around, and what area is in need the most. The rest of us? We’ll go out and actually _do_ the tasks.

Right, sorry, I should probably get back to the _stealing_ part of this story. So, as you now know, we’ll go out and help whoever we can. But, we also have another mission — one that’s equally as important.

We’ve been attempting to build something — anything, really — that‘ll help defend us against the Galra army. That requires us to gather materials _and_ equipment. When one of us has to go out, we draw to see who grabs the shortest stick. And, today, I drew the stupid, infuriating, short stick.

Before I get bad rep, let me explain myself. Normally, I’d _gladly_ volunteer. I mean, that is just the kind of guy I am. But, this task? It was a lot harder than I could imagine.

There was a giant, rare stone that would help us craft some armor — it apparently deflects Galra’s weapons. The task was to extract this stone, and bring it back to the base. Sounds easy right? _WRONG!_ This rare stone was _heavily_ guarded by Galra men 24/7 — I’m sure you can see why. So, this mission? It was a death sentence. I’d somehow have to sneak this _GIANT_ stone out of the Galra base and into our own, all the while making sure I didn’t get caught.

Hang on; don’t jump to conclusions. What do I always say? ‘Never underestimate Lancey Lance.’

Okay. Maybe I don’t _always_ say that, but that’s beside the point.

I happened to come up with a master plan to get the stone. And guess who got the stone right out from underneath the Galra, without _ANY_ of them seeing? _ME_. I did.

That’s right ladies, gents, and other folk! Lance McClain successfully completed his mission and got the paladins what we needed. You could say I’m the greatest paladin of all time. The G.P.O.A.T., if you will. Some of our ‘underground’ workers helped with the transportation, but my job was done; I was home free.

But, alas, my kind and ever so delicate heart had to explode when my eyes laid upon the two children eying a fruit basket.

Their skin was taut, bones clearly visible, and mouths salivating at the sight of the fruit — strawberries, grapes, bananas . . . I mean, what was I _supposed_ to do? They were starved, and needed food. I was not about to just stand there and do nothing.

So, I did what any human with a heart’d do: I walked over to them and offered to steal the fruit for them. _What?_ I know it’s not the smartest thing to do, but that is our _job_ as defenders of the universe — or defenders of the Galraen Burrow; I prefer defenders of the universe, but Shiro thinks that’s pushing it.

Honestly though, who cares what Shiro thinks? ( _Sorry Shiro, please forgive me!_ )

“Hey,” I had kneeled down to get at their level, looking at each of them. “Are you guys hungry?”

Their two heads bobbed rapidly, clearly desperate for any sort of food. I choked back a sob, knowing very well that these two weren’t the only ones experiencing that hunger right now. Even my own ribs were starting to become visible — and that‘s why we do this; to try and end the manifesting evil in our world.

“Don’t attempt what I’m about to do,” I winked at them, forcing a smile to try and calm their nerves. No one can resist a Lance McClain smile — it’s _infectious_.

I strolled over to one of the stands across from the one with the fruit basket. There was a long line of people — extending for at least a few yards. I made my way about halfway between the front and the middle of the line, noticing the cluster in front had more impatient expressions like, ‘ _I’m in the front — why‘ve I been waiting this long?’_

Quickly — knowing that if I hover too long, I’ll become suspicious for the Galra — my eyes searched for my next victim.

( _Ow!_ ) Right, sorry — I meant _target_. Victim sounds a little more, uh, malicious.

I spotted two guys, both huffing in anger with their arms tightly crossed. _Bingo_.

I glanced back to check on the kids real quick, gave them a slight nod, and went in for the kill. ( _No? That’s not okay either? Fine._ ) I went in to ‘complete my mission’. ( _Shut up, Pidge — you’re next...Wait, what do you mean Pidge doesn’t have to do a log?... How is that even fair?!... You know what? Never mind — you‘re interrupting my story._ ) I inserted myself between the last guy, and someone behind him, trying to make small talk with her — “Did you hear they’re going to raise the tax on our water? What an outrage!” — so she didn’t yell at me for ‘cutting in line’. While talking with the lady, I extended my long leg, just enough to reach the guy in front. Then... Well, I kicked him.

 _What?_ It was a _good_ plan. And it actually worked. The guy turned around and faced the one right in front of me and the lady. His face was scrunched up, even more than before, and it was dark red. “Did you just kick me?” he asked the man in one hell of an accusatory tone.

The accused man scoffed, “You’re mad.”

“Mad? Someone kicked me, and you’re the only one that’s close enough to do it! But, oh yeah — _I’m_ the mad one!”

The other’s face was now starting to fill with heat as he grew angry. “Say that I kicked you _one more time_ , and see what happens to ya.”

“You. Kicked. Me,” he spat, narrowing his beady eyes up at the man. The guy being very wrongfully accused — my apologies — did the classic ‘crack your knuckles and neck, and roll up your sleeves’ move.

“Excuse me, miss,” I leaned over to speak to the lady, “I’m going to leave before this gets ugly. You should, too.” And with that, I shimmied my way out of the line and went back towards the fruit stand, shouting out something like, “HEY, THERE’S A FIGHT!”

Everyone in the square swarmed around the two men who started an all out war on one another — grabbing at the face, using what little ‘claws’ they have to scratch. In the meantime, I grabbed the basket with the fruit in it, and handed it to the kids. “I hope this helps,” I smiled at them, tucking in a loaf of bread — just a little extra.

They muttered endless thank you’s and ran off in the other direction, probably to where they came from. I placed my hands on my hips in triumph, bracing a large grin of victory on my face. Now _that_ is a win. I grabbed an apple from the fruit stand and took a bite.

Which, of course, is when everything went downhill for me.

“Hey!” a voice shouted from behind me. “That guy just stole from my stand!”

 _Oh great_ , was all I could think before I felt my hands get yanked behind my back and I was face first in the dirt. The Galra don’t hesitate when someone makes a vocal accusation in the middle of the square. In fact, they _live_ for it. “More fresh meat,” I heard one of them chuckle, a foot being pressed on my face.

“You know,” the other snarled, “we could cut your hand off for stealing, kid.”

“Maybe have you executed,” the one with his foot against my skull suggested. The pressure continued to increase as he pushed more of his weight on me.

“Wait.” I felt the weight leave my head, but my hands were still being held together. My eyes met two, completely yellow eyes as one of the Galra men came down to look at me. “I think we could use this one.”

_Oh no._

“Yeah? You think?” the other seemed rather unconvinced. “He looks scrawny.”

I’ll have you _know_ that I have incredible arm and length strength. I could be an acrobat, _a trapeze artist_ , if I wanted.

“The lady loves scrawny,” I watched as the evil smile crept onto his face.

I knew where he wanted to take me. I didn’t have a chance to argue. ‘ _No, please, just take my hand instead!_ ’ He took the butt of his gun and brought it down on my head; everything went black.

When I came to, I was locked up inside a cage, several others surrounding me in the same situation.

I heard a crowd of people roaring in excitement close by. There had to be a battle going on; I knew where I was. The Galra had a special place for criminals — the ones they didn’t execute, or chop their hands off. You’d only know about it if you knew someone who had experienced the place — it was _that_ secretive.

As a punishment, people were brought to this underground place, forced to fight off their crimes — to the death, I should add. You either fought off your debts, or you died. There was no bargaining, not getting off easy, nothing. And I had ended up in this situation.

I stuck my head out of the bars, as much as I could, attempting to find where the noise was coming from.

The strange thing was, no one else was paying it any attention, meaning they were used to the noise. And it terrified me. How long had these people been in here to be used to such a horrifying noise?

I spotted a small light that opened up to the arena, and I crouched down, but all I could see was the bottom half, just the fighters' feet. I wasn't aware of how long the fight had been going on, but it would be over soon, I could tell by the loud roar of the crowd.

One of the fighters had fallen onto the ground; the crowd raged on, cheering, chanting. The other fighter was standing over the fallen, their sword pressed into his neck. "Please," I heard him call out, "please don't kill me."

There was a pause.

The crowd was silent, waiting.

And then the fighter killed him.

Everyone in the arena shouted in a loud cheer, excited that they had just witnessed someone's death. ' _Sick, sick people,_ ' I shook my head, thinking to myself, trying not to puke.

The gates opened to the arena, and in walked the champion. I hadn't looked — I didn't want to look at someone who could do that — but I wouldn't have much of a choice.

The champion was being placed in the cage right in front of me.

The guards were in a great mood, laughing as they locked the cage. "What a great fight," I heard one of them mumble to the other. “Did you see the way that kid squirmed? _Awesome!_ ”

When they left all of us prisoners alone, I decided to look up at the guy across from me; and my stomach nearly dropped out of my ass.

In front of me, hands bloodied and his hair looking the same as ever, was someone I hadn't seen in years. Last I heard, he had disappeared, but I never even thought to assume he was here.

He was an old enemy of mine - we were always at each other's throats in school.

I never imagined I would see him here. I just figured he left the city.

But there he was.  
   
 _A killer._  
   
Their _champion_.

My throat was dry, but I managed to squeak out one word: his name, "Keith?"


	2. Lance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TO THOSE WHO HAVE ALREADY STARTED THIS A YEAR AGO!: this chapter is basically the exact same (as is the first) but after this one nothing will be the same!
> 
> Okay, enjoy!

He looked up at the sound of my voice; his dark eyes instantly narrowed. “Wh-What did you just call me?”

“Keith? It’s Keith, right?” I choked out, still in shock that he was standing _right there_.

“Yeah,” Keith crossed his arms across his chest. “How do you know my name?”

“Uh, we went to school together?” His face was blank. “I’m Lance?” A blink. “Lance McClain?” Still nothing. “C’mon! We were, like, rivals! ‘ _Lance and Keith, always at each other’s throats!_ ’?”

That seemed to register with him. "Oh yeah, I remember you. Weren't you the one who accused me of cheating on that exam?"

"Okay, how did you get THAT many right answers? It's IMPOSSIBLE."

So, that angered him a bit. "Listen, I don't know why you're here, _Lance_ ,” he said my name like it was a bitter taste in his mouth ( _[Pidge] that’s because he hates you. [Lance] OH SHUT UP PIDGE!_ ). “In this place, you’re given a different name when you get here,” Keith nearly sighed.

“Okay, sure.” It’s not unheard of that the Galra like calling their victims names. “So, what’s yours?”

Keith hesitated for moment. “Champion.”

“Wait,” I held my arms up in confusion, “they named you champion before you even became one?”

“What? No,” he crossed his arms again, furrowing his brow in annoyance. “They give you a name based on your physical appearance. My old name was.. mullet.”

In hindsight, I shouldn’t have laughed, but I HAD to. “MULLET?” Well, it IS his most noticeable appearance. Seriously, why won’t he cut it already?

He pinched the bridge of his nose, probably trying to resist snapping at me and causing a scene. “Yes,” he spoke through clenched teeth. “But, after a while, it was changed. Now they call me ‘champion’.”

‘ _After a while_ ’.. Now that I thought about it more, it really had been a _long time_ since I'd seen him. And if he was in here all this time . . . "Uh, Keith?"

"Yeah?" he released a sigh.

"Uh, how long have you been in here exactly?" I scratched the back of my head, awaiting his answer.

But he didn't answer immediately; I don't think he WANTED to. He had averted his eyes, but even I could see the loss of light in them. I wondered if he smiled anymore.

Keith released a long, deep sigh; he still wasn't looking at me. "Around two years.”

"T-Two _years_?"

He nodded, turning his back against the bars on the cage. I thought he was done talking to me, but I realized he was looking at something. On the stone wall behind him, I noticed tally marks all along it — several sections were circled, a number next to it.

I scanned the entirety of the wall; the last number next to one of the circles was 834. "Keith, what di-?"

"Every single day, they make me fight." I glanced back over at the wall. One of the circled group of tally marks had 50. "I don't get a break. Maybe once in a while, but not often. There is no end to this hell." His expression was dead serious.

_What was he in here for?_

"I've been in here for 834 days. I haven't been outside for over _two years_. Can you even _imagine_ that?"

I didn't want to.

"You just got here. Maybe you'll get lucky and leave after just one fight." Keith kicked at the ground, softly.

"Can I ask you something?" I spoke up, finally. He didn't respond, but I knew he was waiting for me to ask. "What did you do to get in here?"

Keith turned fully around, his thick eyebrows slightly furrowed. "I stole one of their blades. They confiscated it from me with a warning, and I stole it back the next day."

He was in this place _THAT_ long for _stealing_ something? Oh god . . . _what was going to happen to me?_ "But, I heard stories!” I tried to protest. “I know someone who was in the _same_ situation as you. How could you have possibly been kept in here _this_ long?" My shoulders were drooping slightly. I was panicking.

"I don't know," his eyes shot up and back down just as quickly. "They had planned on executing me, and then they just changed their minds and brought me here."

"Keith—"

"They promised I could leave if I did what they asked,” he kept going, ignoring me.

"Keith.."

"But I'm still stuck here and they still haven't given me what I want!"

"Keith!" I had to yell to get him to finally listen to me. He blinked one, two times before crossing his arms once again and putting on that face: a mixture between annoyed and angry. "Look, I know you don't like me — I don't really like you either," Keith's brow furrowed deeper at that comment, "but we've got to work together if we want to get out of here."

"’ _Get out of here_ ’? Don't you know the rules of this place? It's _kill_ or _be killed_. The only way to escape is by winning in that arena." His finger pointed at the very place I saw him come from.

The door that let in all of the competitors was blocking a view of the battle arena — at least a full one. My eyes could still only see the ground where people died, where they spoke their last words. I shuddered at the thought.

Staring Keith in the eyes, refusing to lose his focus, I said, "But you've won ALL THOSE TIMES," flailing my arms at the tally marks on his wall. "How is it possible that you're still here?"

No response.

"Keith, c'mon!"

His eyes were still narrowed when he looked away, turning his head.

"Wait," I started to think about it. It was all coming to me now. "If they stole your blade, and you're in this place because you took it back.." I tapped my fingers on my chin. "You won't leave this place because they told you they'd give it back! I'm right, aren't I?" I grinned, satisfied. Maybe I wouldn’t be in here forever!!!!

"No."

My face dropped. "What?"

"You're wrong. But I'm guessing it's not that abnormal for you?" Keith's head cocked to the side.

"Alright, _listen up,_ I-!"

"Shh!" he hushed me instantly. I almost went off again, but I saw him nod off towards two guards walking straight for us. The two Galra men were laughing, their faces animated while conversing about an upcoming fight. One of them pulled out a ring with keys, and began unlocking the cage to the left of Keith.

"Time for you to fight, shrimp." I watched as the guard chained his wrists together and dragged him out of his cage. The prisoner was definitely a shrimp. He was short, had little muscle, and even had a reddish tint to his hair.

Keith wasn't lying when he said you got a name based on appearance.

I watched as the guards threw him into the arena, and walked away, both of them still cackling. Keith's eyes followed them the whole way and eventually looked back at me. "If they hear you even talking about leaving this place, they will kill you." His expression had a knowing look; I knew he had seen it happen. "It's not like I haven't thought about it," he finally admitted, "but I can't just leave. They..."

 _Say it,_ I begged. _Just tell me_.

"They haven't told me what they'd promised," he breathed.

I sighed. _Close enough._ "Look, it's got to be important if your plans of escape never became a reality," I eased myself into the conversation, "but if you and I work together, my friends and I can help you. Whatever you need."

It was a stretch — I knew that — but I was NOT about to stay in this place forever! Keith said people DIED, like actually DIED! And he's been here for over TWO YEARS. I mean WOW. How is it even POSSIBLE that he's still alive?! _He probably cheated_ . . .

The intensity of the crowd was rapidly increasing; the both of us turned our heads to try and see the cause of the commotion. Through the small hole, I saw the shrimp on the ground, blood pouring out of his side, the feet of another placed just to the right of his dead body.

I noticed Keith look down. This time I knew what he was thinking: he, himself, was responsible for all those deaths tallied on his wall. He had done the same thing so many times already. Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if he thought he was lost forever . . .

"I'll help you," he barely spoke up. My eyes widened slightly, a small grin breaking out onto my face.

"Really?"

I heard him sigh, thinking he was going to change his mind, but he muttered a, "Yes." I did a little fist pump in the air. "But you have to trust me and follow my lead, okay? No . . . ‘funny business’."

"Uh yeah, sure." I probably would have agreed to anything. He knew his way around this place, I didn't.

One of the Galra guards walked in through the gates, holding the guy who had just won, his hands were cuffed behind his back. "Congratulations, blondie," the Galra guard snickered. "Try to beat him," he pointed toward Keith, "and we'll give you a different title."

The blonde kid looked at Keith and his wall, and shivered from fear. He may've won that round, but I knew he had little hope he could beat a long-time champion.

The guard began to walk away and I started to breathe easy. Now Keith and I could plan our escape— "Hey guard!" Keith barked at the Galra. I muttered an ' _oh no'_ as the guard shifted on his foot and faced Keith.

"What do you want, champion?" he crossed his arms, annoyed.

"I want to get in there and fight,” Keith demanded, his body angled forward.

The Galra guard cackled, like they always do. _What was Keith doing?_ "Oh yeah? Well we don't have any fights schedule for another five min—"

"I've got a bone to pick with this one," Keith cut off the guard, his finger pointed straight at me.

"Uh," I laughed nervously, "what do you mean, with me?" ( _Wha— Yes, I know he said to trust him, but you would’ve been freaking out, too, Hunk!_ )

"With scrawny arms?" WHAT? MY NAME IS SCRAWNY ARMS? Why did they keep calling me scrawny? ( _I don’t care if I look scrawny, I’m not!!_ ) "Well, alright then. This should be fun." The Galra guard unlocked Keith's cage. He went to grab the cuffs, but Keith started squirming, like he was just dying to kill me. "Woah, hold on, champion. You'll get to kill him soon enough," he laughed.

The guard proceeded to cuff Keith, and sent him over to the other side where a gated door awaited him. Another guard walked over to me, unlocked my door, cuffed me, too, and whispered into my ear, "It was nice knowing you, scrawny arms." And then he laughed maniacally, shoving me towards the other gate.

I could hear an announcer in the arena. "So, our champion wants to fight already!" a woman roared out to the screaming crowd. "Who is ready to see some blood shed?" The entirety of the arena shook as the crowd stomped their feet and yelled down at the battle grounds.

_Seriously, what was Keith doing?_

As the gates rose, I could see him on the other side. He had a certain look in his eyes, but I couldn't tell what. When the guards shoved us through, our cuffs immediately fell to the ground, like we both walked through a barrier that unlocked them.

I rubbed my wrists, and stretched my hands, getting ready to fight — if that's what Keith was doing — but it turns out I still wasn't ready.

The announcer shouted, "FIGHT!" and a bell rang as the crowd went crazy. I got distracted and looked up. There were so many people. Keith took that as his chance to punch me in the face and kick my legs out from under me. My head smacked against the ground and I heard the crowd go, " _Ooooh!_ "

Slowly, I rose, rubbing my head. I glared at Keith, "What are you d—?" Keith shoved me against the wall, his hands cuffing the front of my shirt. I stared him down, trying to read his expression. Wait, was he . . . _smiling?_ "Keith, I don't know what's gotten into you, but I thought you said—"

"Listen," he nearly hissed. "I told you to trust me. Do you?" He had his eyes narrowed and his brows furrowed, but I could finally make out something: a small glimmer of hope in his eyes.

"Do it," I nodded. Keith nodded as well, and he kneed me right in the gut. I groaned and fell to the dirty ground.

Keith walked out into the middle of the arena and lifted his arms, causing the crowd to shout louder and louder. "Who wants to see this one die?" he called out to them; they roared in response.

I watched as one of the guards above dropped a sword and Keith caught it with a perfect grip on its hilt.

More roaring and stomping.

Keith flipped the sword around, and proceeded to come towards me.

I was already on the ground, hurt; I had nowhere to run. If he was lying to me, I was dead.

Keith was now hovering over me, the sword in his hands. "Now it's time to die," he shouted out for, I assume, the crowd. When Keith's arms raised the sword, I expected to, well, _die_. But instead the sword went right into my shoulder.

I yelped in pain, but Keith didn't pull it out which is when I realized what he was doing: he wanted _me_ to pull it out.

Keith had given me a weapon.

You know, he could've done that without sTABBING ME IN THE ARM!

For the first time since this whole fight, I noticed that the two Galra guards were standing by the gates on the inside of the arena; I smiled. _Clever, Keith. Very clever._

Keith was walking in circles around the crowd, calling out phrases like, "I can't hear you," to get them riled up. The crowd shouted violently, but Keith kept going. "You want to see some blood shed?" They loudly cried out a 'yes'. "Alright then."

The motion was almost so swift I didn't catch it. Keith quickly pulled out a small blade from his jacket's sleeve and threw it right at one of the Galra guards. It stuck out in his head and he fell over.

My jaw dropped. Keith ran over to me and yelled, "Get up and grab the sword! We need to get out of here, now!" He sprinted along the arena, ripped out his blade, stole one of the cards that unlocked the arena doors, and turned towards the crowd — all of them were silent; they didn't know how to react.

Keith took a bow, and said, "Thank you for your time," proceeding to kill the other guard and grabbing my wrist, dragging me out of the door he quickly unlocked.

Luckily I had grabbed the sword and got up in time. Otherwise, I knew Keith would've left me. ( _Yes, he would’ve. Pidge even said he hates me! Anyway..._ )

"Keith, how did you-?"

"No time for questions!" he yelled back at me. "If we want to get out of here alive, we need to act quickly. So shut up and move!" He sped up his pace which meant that I had to, too.

An alarm sounded, and I instantly knew we would be swarmed. But Keith knew his way around here.

He was flying through the building, turning left, right, climbing stairs; he even knew the combination to one of the sealed doors. I couldn't help but admire that sort of talent.

But I still hated him.

" _Hey_! Stop right there!" A guard, somewhere behind us, called out. Keith grumbled something under his breath, stopped abruptly, and pulled out his blade. The Galra's hand held a full-length sword. What could Keith's tiny blade do?

 _Everything and more._ ( _SHUT UP, PIDGE!_ )

Keith used it so well, the guard did not stand a CHANCE. He kicked off one of the walls and came down on him, stabbing it right through the guard's suit of armor into his chest.

"Wh— _seriously Keith_ , how do yo—?"

"I said no questions!" Keith yelled, once again, and snatched my wrist back for the second time, dragging me along behind him.

We arrived close to the main door, several of the Galra vehicles parked to the right of us. A whole army of guards came and swarmed us, just like I knew they would. There was no way we were getting out of this alive. "Uh, Keith?"

The Galra army raised their swords and charged, shouting out battle cries. But Keith reacted a tad faster.

He jumped into one of the vehicles and tried to start it, the army getting a lot closer to us. I jumped in behind him, waiting for him to drive us out of here.

"Uh, Keith, they're getting closer," I gulped, my hand resting on his shoulder.

"Just.. hang.. on . . ." he responded in between pressing buttons. With each second the army got closer. I heard the engine roar to life.

Before I knew it, we were blasting through the front of the building and out into the cold night, free of the Galra men shrinking in the distance.


	3. Keith

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one took so long to upload!! I’m trying to upload at least two chapters at a time so you’ll have more to read at once!!
> 
> A little note about this chapter: it’s basically the last chapter but from Keith’s point of view. The italicized font inside quotations is going to be repeated speech text from the previous chapter, minus one time where Keith is thinking to himself.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!!!!!

So, yeah, Keith lied about knowing Lance.

 _Lance McClain._

That guy was always trying to one-up him in school — always blaming Keith for stuff he didn’t do. Seriously, the guy blamed an obnoxiously rainy day on him once.

But he wasn’t gonna tell Lance that. Because Lance was right about one thing: Keith wanted to leave this place.

No, Keith wouldn’t get to leave with what he wanted, but he’d find another way. He would _have_ to find another way.

There’s no way Keith would ever tell Lance what he was still here for — Lance didn’t know anything about Keith or his family, and Keith wanted to keep it that way.

 _Expressing your emotions, letting people in . . ._ That kind of stuff only left you vulnerable, and allowed the people you love most to leave you.

_They always leave you._

So, when Lance brought up the plan of escaping, Keith accepted it — and he knew exactly how he was gonna do it.

The Galra loved showing off their champion fighter, meaning Keith had to fight at least every two fights. He would only have one more fight after the next before he was scheduled to go. And there was no guarantee he’d get to fight Lance.

So, Keith had to act like a blood-thirsty animal, and fast.

One of the guards held Keith’s blade in a sheath right around his waist — that was his first mission: _retrieve that blade_.

Initially, he’d have to get the guards attention, by declaring he ‘wanted to get in there and fight’, but he had to make sure he’d get to fight Lance. “ _I’ve got a bone to pick with this one,_ ” seemed to work just fine.

The Galra guards were quick to say yes, chuckling at the idea of Lance being killed by their beloved champion. Now, this was where Keith needed to grab his blade. As the guards pulled him out to put him in cuffs, he struggled in their grip, distracting them from any sense of something being taken. He slid the blade into the sleeve of his jacket with no problems from the guard. " _Woah, hold on, champion. You'll get to kill him soon enough._ ”

Lance and Keith were placed at gates opposite from each other; Lance looked like he was about to shit himself.

The announcer and the roaring crowd could easily be heard from the gates; the ground and walls vibrating from the noise. Slowly, the gates rose, and Keith and Lance were shoved through — their cuffs fell to the dirt-covered ground.

As soon as the bell rang — “ _FIGHT!_ ” — Keith darted over to Lance and punched him in the face, kicking his legs out from under him. The crowd reacted to every slight movement which is exactly what Keith wanted.

Just as Lance rose, Keith shoved him up against the wall. " _Keith, I don't know what's gotten into you, but I thought you said—_ "

" _Listen. I told you to trust me. Do you?”_  

Lance nodded, " _Do it._ ”

Keith kneed Lance in the gut and walked into the center of the arena, lifting his arms up to the audience; the sound of their cries and cheers increased rapidly. “ _Who wants to see this one die?_ ”

Keith already knew the answer to that one.

The usual ‘final blow’ sword dropped from above and Keith perfectly caught it by its hilt, causing the roar to grow louder. 

The fear in Lance’s eyes as he approached him almost stopped Keith, but this time was different: _he wasn’t going to kill Lance._

Next step: _give Lance a weapon._

Keith swiftly plunged the sword right into Lance’s shoulder, hitting where the wound wouldn’t be fatal and Lance could still use his arm, even though he was hurt.

Keith started to rile up the crowd again, pumping his arms up and down, calling out different phrases, begging them to ask for more.

“ _You want to see some blood shed?_ ”

One. Loud. “ _YES!_ ”

A smirk formed on Keith’s lips. “ _Alright then.”_  

Final step: _escape this hellhole_.

In the blink of an eye, Keith dropped the blade down his sleeve and chucked it into the head of one of the guards. He fell over instantly, and the entire arena went silent. Keith quickly ran over to Lance and yelled at him to get up before quickly sprinting around the arena, retrieving his blade, and stealing one of the key cards used on the doors. Keith took a bow — " _Thank you for your time_ " — and dragged Lance out of the arena, killing the other guard on the way out.

Keith paid little attention to whether Lance was keeping up the pace behind him. The only reason he knew Lance was still there was because he wouldn’t shut up.

And Keith had zero tolerance for questions — especially if he didn’t have the time.

Keith knew the ins and outs of this place like it was all he knew. He knew how long it’d be before the Galra instantly swarmed this place the second the alarm sounded; he knew each twist and turn, how many flights of stairs he had to climb before he reached the hangar; and, he knew one of the door’s combinations.

Being the Galra’s prized champion had its perks, the Galra just had no idea they’d be the reason their champion could escape. 

“ _Hey! Stop right there!”_  

Keith stopped abruptly. “ _Seriously, who thinks ‘stop right there’ would actually work?_ ” Keith grumbled.

With no hesitation, he charged the guard, bouncing off the wall and stabbing his blade right through his chest.

" _Wh— seriously Keith, how do yo—?_ " Lance’s eyes were wide with curiosity, but Keith didn’t have time for that. Neither of them did.

" _I said no questions!_ " Keith yelled, snatching Lance’s wrist for the second time, dragging him along.

They approached the hangar — several of the Galra vehicles were parked, ready to be taken at any given chance. Keith grinned. _He had always wanted to drive one of these._

An army of guards came swarming in; their swords were raised and they charged. Keith jumped into one of the ships, immediately messing with the various switches and buttons, praying that it’d come to life.

“ _Uh, Keith, they’re getting closer,_ ” Lance gulped, his hand was pressing into Keith’s shoulder. 

“ _Just.. hang.. on . . ._ ” Keith calmly pushed more buttons, pulling down on the largest switch; the engine roared to life.

Keith laughed in glee as the ship blasted through the front of the building and Lance and Keith were free from the Galra. He never thought he’d feel that blast of cold air hitting his face again.

“Where to?” Keith called back to Lance over the sound of the whipping wind.

“Altea Cove — it’s right outside of the Burrow. My friends will be so excited to meet a new defender of the universe!!”


	4. Keith

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyo, just a little note about the chapter! There are a few flashback scenes. They’ll be indicated with italicized text and a larger gap between the text!

Altea Cove was a lot different than Keith had imagined.

As Lance had talked about it, Keith could only imagine a run-down little community where Lance and his friends resided.

But that wasn’t the case at all.

Altea Cove was a hidden city, filled with people running about, working on various projects, calling out requests, and leaving on vehicles Keith didn’t even recognize.

Lance directed Keith to a place where he could land the Galra ship safely. As Keith was powering it down, Lance jumped out and slapped hands with a guy wearing an aviator hat, stubble on his chin.

“Lance, my man, where were you?” the guy grinned, immediately resting on a ship with his arms crossed across his chest.

“Actually,” Lance rubbed the back of his head, “that’s a pretty long stor—“

“LANCE!” a small but loud voice disrupted the conversation. Everyone turned to find the voice: a tiny and ferociously angry kid looking right at Lance. They ran up and punched Lance right in the arm, causing him to yelp. “Where the hell were you?! We were worried sick about you!”

“Pidge, I’ll explain everything soon, I promise. Can you do me a favor and deactivate the tracker in this Galra ship for me? Oh, and where’s Hunk?”

“So you leave and make everyone worry about you, just to come back and ask for favors?”

Lance’s smile dropped. “Pidge.”

Pidge sighed and uncrossed their arms. “I’ll fix the ship. And Hunk’s working on some armor designs over there.”

“Thank you, Pidgie. C’mon, Keith,” Lance started walking away from the ship which left Keith no choice but to follow.

“Who’s Hunk?” Keith decided to ask, very aware that he knew absolutely no one in this place — he figured he’d know at least one person.

“Hunk’s my best friend,” Lance smiled, proud of that fact. “I think you’ll love him.”

They continued walking for a little longer before they reached a small camp set up; a guy was seated at a workbench, with his tongue sticking out in focus. Keith could only assume that this guy was—

“HUNK!” Lance called out his arms open.

The guy immediately looked up, his eyes widened in shock. “LANCE!”

_There was a lot of yelling in this place._

The guy known as Hunk pulled Lance into a tight hug, lifting him off the ground.

“Hunk . . . can’t . . . breathe . . .” Lance managed to let out.

“Oh, right,” Hunk laughed, blushing, and released Lance. “You did a great job at getting that stone from the Galra! But where did you go? We couldn’t track you or call you. Did you lose your bayard?”

“Sort of. I kind of wanted to talk to all of you at once. There’s a lot we need to talk about,” Lance’s face suddenly became serious.

“Alright,” Hunk nodded. “So who’s this?”

“Oh, this is Keith. He actually went to the same school as us.”

Keith lifted two fingers up as a silent wave. Hunk’s eyes narrowed in thought. “Wait, is he the one that you—?”

“Hated? Yeah that’s me,” Keith thought he would go ahead and finish his question. Might as well get the unnecessary rivalry discussion out of the way.

“No, no, I’m pretty sure Lance h—“

“Hunk, I swear to whatever god there is, if you finish that sentence, I _will_ kill you.”

Hunk flung his hands up in defense. Keith noted that as something he might want to eventually ask about. “Anyway,” Hunk said to change the subject, “Allura and Coran will be back soon. They’ll be happy to see you. And, I think that Shiro is around he—“

 _Did he just say—?_ “Shiro?” Keith stepped forward, moving closer to Hunk.

“Uhm, yeah. He’s kind of the head of this whole operation,” Hunk spread his arms out in a dramatic gesture. “He wanted a change, so he started a revolution.”

There’s no way he could be talking about the same Shiro . . . “Takashi Shirogane?”

Hunk hesitated. “Yes?”

“Black hair? Missing an arm?” Keith refrained from wincing at the thought of his last question.

“Actually he has a metal arm— wait, how do you know all this?”

“Shiro’s my—“

“Oh my god.” Keith stiffened at the sound of the voice. _He hadn’t heard it in so long._ “Keith? Is that you?”

Keith turned, expecting to find someone else who recognized him from school. _It couldn’t be possible that it was—_ “Shiro.”

There was only a moment of hesitation — a second of doubt in Keith’s mind — right before he ran straight at Shiro, pulling him into a tight squeeze.

Shiro was Keith’s only family he had left. _And he never thought he’d see him again._

“Keith,” Shiro’s voice clipped as Keith’s hug suddenly became tighter. “I thought you were dead. When they took you, I—“

“I’m here. And so are you,” Keith smiled, finally letting go, relieved that he hadn’t completely lost everyone he cared about. “Nice hair,” he poked fun at the small tuft of white Shiro had acquired.

Shiro rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, “Yeah, that’s what stress does to you. So, how’d you get out of there?”

Jumping straight to the point — _typical_. “Uhm, Lance actually helped me escape.”

The whole group turned to Lance and he jumped slightly at all the attention. “Well, I was more of an . . . observer. Keith did all the hard work.” Lance, suddenly realizing he was praising Keith, shook his head. “I mean, he never could’ve done it without me though. I was like his guardian angel.”

Keith frowned and narrowed his eyes, but quickly changed his attitude when he saw another group of people arriving. The one named Pidge was in front, followed by a girl with flowing white hair and a man who surprisingly resembles that dad from the Wild Thornberrys.

“I found Allura and Coran,” Pidge beamed proudly, walking over to stand by Hunk.

“Nice. And did you disable the tracker?”

“All done.”

“Good work, Pidgie. So, Keith,” Lance shifted himself out of the circle, “this is Allura,” _the one with the white hair,_ “and this is Coran.” _Mr. Wild Thornberry dad_. “They do a lot of important work around here, and we just enjoy their company.”

“Why thank you, Lance,” Coran smiled. “The princess and I found quite a few more looking to help the cause. Snagged some things while we were out as well.”

“Good work, you two,” Shiro announced, making a mental note of their progress.

“So, Lance, who’s your friend?” Allura’s eyes were grazing Keith like he was under some interrogation; but he didn’t blame her for being wary of a stranger. He felt the same way the second he got there.

“Oh, this is Keith,” Lance gestured towards Keith like he was an art piece in a museum — something to be admired. “We went to the Garrison together, but we recently met up at one of those underground fighting arenas the Galra keep a secret. You know, the one Shiro was in.”

Keith remembered the day Shiro got out so vividly in his mind; he never went a day without thinking about it at least once . . .

 

_“That’s my blade! My father gave it to me! You can’t just take it!”_

_834 days ago, that’s where Keith was._

_“Listen, kid, we could have you killed for stealing a Galra weapon,” a poke in the chest pushed Keith backwards._

_“I didn’t steal anything! It belongs to me!”_

_“Yeah, whatever, kid. Just take the warning and leave,” the Galra soldier waved him away with the flick of his wrist._

_But Keith wasn’t going down without a fight._

_He had pulled his black hood over his head and began observing the soldier for the rest of the day. He watched where he ate, who he spoke with, the goods he had exchanged to another soldier, the people he held to the ground and threatened. Keith knew the ins and outs of this guy’s schedule, and he was ready to pounce the minute he set down the blade unattended._

_Which inevitably didn’t matter in Keith’s case as he ended up getting caught._

_The Galra soldier finally sat down as the evening sky started to arrive, setting out a meal for him and his companions. This would be Keith’s only shot to get back his blade before the soldier went away for the night, which meant he had to act quickly._

_Keith switched on his mask, resembling one the Galra servants have been seen wearing. He slid down the wall, snatched up a tray, and began walking out to the dining area._

_They were deep in conversation, to Keith’s advantage, talking about different people they tortured today like it was normal. He spotted his target, and then went into his plan of action: a trip and Keith spilled all the tray’s contents all over the soldier. He shot out of his chair and angrily started wiping himself clean. “You imbecile! I will have you thrown in prison for that!”_

_“Sorry, sorry,” Keith mumbled as he carefully slipped the blade out of the soldier’s pocket and up his sleeve, backing away. “I will go grab you a towel.”_

_“Great idea,” the Galra soldier barked, still attempting to wipe himself off. Keith, with absolutely no intention of getting him a towel, turned so his back was facing the soldiers. “Wait. Wait a second. Where is that blade?” A pause. “That servant! Get him now!” And Keith took off on a dead sprint down the alleyway._

_He rushed around the corner and shoved past people walking along the street, his mind only focused on escaping the Galra’s clutches. His heart was pounding in his chest. ‘I just have to find a place to hide.’_

_There was a local pub that Keith knew he could blend in at, but he had to make sure the guards didn’t see him go inside._

_“You’re letting him get away!” he heard the soldier shout at his peers. “Stop him!”_

_Keith was quicker than the guards. His light weight allowed him to jump higher, lunging onto a garbage bin and pulling himself up to the roof of a building. He hopped from one rooftop for another, eventually sliding down a ladder into an alleyway that led to the pub._

_No Galra soldiers or guards were in sight._

_“Hey, honey, would you like a drink?” Keith turned to face the lady behind the bar._

_“No, thanks,” and he sat down at an empty table. His hands clutched around the blade as he flipped it in the palms of his hands. Why are they so obsessed with this blade? It’s not even theirs . . ._

 

“Uhm, Keith?”

He had zoned out. Everyone was staring at him.

“I was just filling them in on the details,” Lance spoke towards Keith, “and they,” Hunk elbowed him, “ _we_ wanted to show you around.”

“Keith, are you alright?” Shiro asked him, placing a hand on his shoulder in concern.

“Yeah, fine. Let’s see this place.”

Coran took his place as the tour guide, showing Keith around the giant sanctuary while sprouting out facts the rest of the group already knew. He spoke of those who resided in Altea Cove — what they did, what their purpose was, how they came to be a part of the revolution — and the various projects everyone was currently working on. “Lance recently got us a very important piece to achieving our goal,” Coran stuck out his index finger as he spoke. “We’re working on forging some great armor and weapons to defend us against the Galra, AND we have our best team of scientists working to figure out the make-up of the stone.”

“The stone?” Keith asked, confused.

“The item that Lance retrieved,” Coran clarified, allowing Keith to release a small ‘ah’ in response. “Now, let’s head on over here for a minute.”

The group continued to walk, and Coran continued to talk. He placed names to the faces and spoke more of the work getting done in Altea Cove. That’s when Keith had noticed Coran forgot to mention someone: a yellow alien about to ride out on a ship.

“Uhm, who’s that?” Keith thought he’d go ahead and speak up, seeing as he was already learning everyone else’s names.

“Oh,” Lance cut in, “that’s Nyma. Allura’s had a crush on her for _months_ , but she still won’t ask her out.” He leaned over to Keith’s ear and covered his mouth slightly. “We like to call her a ‘disaster lesbian’.”

“No, Lance,” Allura frowned, “ _you_ like to call me that.”

“I call ‘em as I see ‘em,” he shrugged.

Allura sighed, blushing slightly, deciding not to argue any further with Lance. “So, Keith, what do you think of the place?”

“It’s amazing, really. And Coran, you said you guys have already created some stuff from Galra material successfully?”

“Why yes we have!”

“Impressive. Their stuff can be pretty hard to figure out.” Keith had messed around with it enough to know the intricate workings of their weapons and materials.

“Well, we have some of the best minds in Altea Cove working every day! Hunk and Pidge actually structured Shiro’s bionic arm! Our first success with their material!”

 _Shiro’s bionic arm._ It was enough to send Keith back to that day again . . .

 

_It was as if the second he had sat down, he set off an alarm that told the Galra of his whereabouts._

_“Thought you could escape, eh?” a blade was pressed against Keith’s throat. His chances of escape suddenly became very slim. “You know, I should kill you right now. But,” the Galra soldier removed the knife from Keith’s throat, “I won’t. You have a lot of fire in you, kid, and we have just the place for you.” A sharp pain went through Keith’s shoulder._

_Keith’s vision went black and the sound of the soldier’s chuckle faded into darkness._

_He awoke in a dimly lit room, surrounded by bars like a prison cell. Humans, aliens, any race of any kind, were in similar cells all around him. Their faces bruised and cut up, most of them shaking in fear. Keith had no idea where he was, but he knew one thing: he had to get out of here fast._

_There wasn’t much to go off of. His cell had a keypad, locking him in; at the end of hall was a large door, revealing nothing at all; and, at the other end, the hall split into a ‘T’, leaving him with nothing but useless information. Keith was trapped._

_But there had to be_ something _._

_The large door opened up, and two Galra soldiers walked out with a kid in between them. He was sweating, and blood slipped out of a cut on his forehead. Just like a rag doll, he was thrown into an empty cell and locked right up — that’s when Keith noticed the soldiers used a little keycard, attached to their hips, to lock/unlock the cells. All he had to do was find a way to—_

_“Keith?”_

_Keith turned so quickly he thought he’d get whiplash. In the cell to his left, was the closest thing he had to family, and the last thing he had lost. “Shiro?”_

_Shiro stood up, making his way over to their shared cell well. His black hair was getting longer, a scar had formed across the bridge of his nose, and he looked like he hadn’t had a good meal in a while._

_“Keith,” Shiro smiled. “I can’t believe it’s you.” The most he could do was slip a few fingers through the tight bars. “Are you alright?”_

_“I’m fine. A little confused. Where are we exactly?”_

_Shiro’s face fell. This wasn’t going to be good. “It’s a fighting arena for the Galra’s pleasure. They pick up people on the streets and send them down here to fight to the death.” To the death? “I think it’s a secretive event, but there sure are a lot of people here to see the fights.”_

_In the distance, Keith could make out the roar of a crowd, clearly riled up._

_“Shiro, you’ve been gone for months. This whole time . . . Have you been down here? In this place?”_

_He averted his eyes, nodding. “Yeah. This place is a nightmare, Keith.” That’s when he looked up; his eyes were full of fear of the future. “We’re probably going to have to fight each other.”_

_Keith was taken aback. “No. No, I’m not going to fight you to the death, Shiro. I lost you once, I’m not losing you again.”_

_“Keith, I—”_

_“NO!” Keith wasn’t going to cry; he couldn’t show any form of weakness, especially not in a place like this. “Shiro, you’re my only family I have left. I—“_

_“Hey, it’s alright. I’ll figure something out when it comes to that, okay? I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”_

_Only Shiro didn’t actually have a say in what was to happen next._

_Minutes went by — maybe hours — and neither of them had been chosen. They talked and caught up; Shiro taught Keith more about the underground arena, all that he knew._

_It was almost like old times._

_Almost._

_“Time to fight, Scarface,” a guard cackled as he came to unlock Shiro’s cell._

_‘No,’ Keith thought to himself. He closed his eyes tight, clenching his fists._

 

“NO!” His eyes flung open, and everyone was staring at him — again — but there was a lot more concern this time around.

He jumped at the gentle touch on his shoulder. It was Lance. “Hey man. How about we take a break?” His smile was soft, a look Keith had never seen Lance wear around him.

_Concerned. Gentle. Soft. Lance?_

Keith shook his head. “Uhm, yeah,” Keith scratched the back of his head, “a break would be nice.”

Lance whispered something to the group and they all dispersed, leaving Keith alone with Shiro and Lance.

Practically family. And his worst enemy.

_Great._

Keith sat down at the nearest bench and so did Shiro; Lance decided to stand and awkwardly hover. Seriously, _what_ was he even doing?

“Keith, what’s going on with you?”

He was just asking — Keith knew that — but he couldn’t bite down his anger any longer. “834 days, Shiro. And I did that to you.” Shiro lightly touched his new bionic arm. “That’s _my_ fault. That, and all of the deaths I caused. I’m a—“

“Stop. None of that is your fault. This world was forced upon us, not the other way around. It’s alright. Just, talk to me. What happened after I left?”

Keith glanced over at Lance who looked away the second he made eye contact. “They dragged me out of the arena and took me to some room. It was far away from all the cells, and kind of looked like one of those meeting rooms. I thought I was going to be killed. I mean, you killed their champion; you earned your freedom. The guards were hovering over me as I sat there and waited forever. Then, someone else came in and told me that if I stayed there longer, and fought, and claimed the title of ‘champion’, then they would tell me where my mother was — who she was.”

“Keith—“

“It’s a lot, I know,” Keith cut Shiro off, not needing to hear any sympathy from him. “After all these years, they never told me who she was, or where was, and I never thought I was going to leave that place.”

There was silence. Shiro, and Lance, we’re clearly digesting all of what Keith said. It’s a lot, he knew that. He just wished it didn’t have to be so complicated; he just wished it was all a nightmare.

“Well,” Shiro spoke up first, “first thing’s first: you’re safe now, and I will never let anything happen to you again. The odds are in our favor, and the Galra won’t go anywhere near you. And secondly: I am going to help you find your mom.”

“We all will,” Lance chimed in, a small smile on his face. “You’re a part of the team now, Keith. Not a champion to the Galra, a paladin. And we’re more than happy to have you.”


End file.
